Aftermath
by HeavenlyMuse
Summary: KOTOR2:  What would happen to the Exile as a result of her severing of her Force Bond with Kreia?  What happened immediately after the game's anticlimatic conclusion?  Written in response to the game's pitiful ending.  LSF Exile. oneshot!


!!!DISCLAIMER!!! I don't own KOTOR, Star Wars, or anything related in any way. However, like I always say – sometimes it's fun to take someone else's car out for a spin. Don't sue me, George Lucas/Obsidian! They say imitation is the best form of flattery!

Okay, now that the legal stuff is done with, onto the story. This was penned immediately after I watched that nonsense Obsidian called an ending. I was so embroiled (since it took 60+ hours to get to the ending) that I couldn't sleep until I got something onto paper. What the Hell happened as a result of the Exile's and Traya Force Bond? Well, I sought to investigate. This is the result:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The _Ebon Hawk_ sped away from the poisoned surface of Malachor V and into the vast space ahead. The stars became streaks against the dark space as the ship flew faster and faster, fleeing the volatile asteroid field around the planet.

Atton piloted the vessel through the asteroid field, and the passengers in the ship lurched around the quarters of the _Ebok Hawk. _ "Hang on!" They heard him shout from the cockpit. "This might get a little rocky!"

Bao-Dur held on to the Exile as the ship rocked back and forth. She lay lifeless in his arms. No one knew exactly what took place on the surface of Malachor V, but one thing they all knew – was that Kreia, or Darth Traya, was dead, and the Exile was sprawled on the ground next to her.

When they hit the surface of the planet, Disciple and Bao-Dur actually lifted The Exile from the cold marble floor of the Sith Academy and brought her into the ship. Her body was cold, lifeless – and her aura with the Force was no more than a tear, a numbness.

Needless to say, everyone was concerned.

Nevertheless, the first priority was reaching safer space. The ship rocked around some more. T3 screeched loudly as he was tossed around the ship. It might have seemed humorous if the situation had not been so dire. The lights in the ship flickered and the sounds from the ship did not sound to healthy.

And then, the ship sustained a hit from on the asteroids and took a dangerous dip. "Damn blasted rocks!" Atton yelled from the cockpit. The ship lurched and swerved a few more times. Some of the contraptions in the ceiling began sparking.

"That can't be good," Bao-Dur answered looked up at the sparking. And then the ship slowly started to balance and level.

Within a few minutes the ship was on auto-pilot and flying in open, free space. Atton walked into the main hull of the ship, and watched everyone gather themselves and their belongs, "Don't worry; I got us out of trouble, yet single-handedly. I don't know how I do it.

No one responded.

"Right, don't all get too enthusiastic on me," he answered. He looked over at the Exile, prostrate and lifeless, and his heart completely fell. "Oh no… what's wrong with her?" He stammered, walking quickly over to them.

Bao-Dur stood with the Exile in his arms, and she was completely cold and motionless. The brown-stained Jedi robe was wrapped around her body like a blanket. Her lips were blue, and her eyes were closed loosely. She looked dead, and they weren't sure if she was.

They placed the Exile on the table in the med bay. Disciple walked over to her and touched her face. He tried to feel her in the Force, to see if there was any life left in her, but he found nothing there. Atton looked over to him in jealously. "What are you doing to her?"

Disciple ignored him and kept his attention to the Exile. Being trained in the medical arts, he knew what the difference between dead and unconscious was, but the Exile didn't seem to be either one. She seemed trapped somewhere in between the two extremes. He looked at the robes, and they seemed slightly singed in some places, which was to be expected after a light saber battle.

But her skin was not too badly damaged saved for a few flesh wounds, so she did not really sustain any heavy physical or internal damage. The diagnostic test the Disciple ran from the nearby console next to the bed revealed nothing into this ailment.

The Disciple removed the Exile's lightsaber hilt from her belt and laid it on the floor nearby. He grabbed some first aid kits to bandage her wounds, but other than that, he really wasn't sure what to do.

"In all the medical training I've received in my training with the Republic, I regret to admit I really have had no encounter with an ailment like this before."

"What?" Atton said, growing angry, "you don't know what wrong with her?"

"No."

Bao-Dur stepped between them, "The General has amazing resolve, and she's showed us this before. Don't underestimate her." He took her lightsaber from the ground and studied it. "She never would go down without a fight, and I don't believe this is the end for her, or us." With that, he took the lightsaber and went repairing.

"I am unsure," Visas said, nearly sneaking up behind them all, "I cannot feel her presence in the Force," she said, smoothing down her gold and maroon headpiece over her eyes.

"Nor can I." Disciple admitted. "I supposed we just have to wait and see."

Atton was very quiet. He was afraid this might happen. He had spoken to the Exile about it before when she decided to pursue Kreia at Telos. If Kreia had died, there was a good chance she would too. He looked upon her face. Her closed eyes, her bluish parted lips, her unkempt brown hair – all wrapped together and held binded by a single Jedi robe swathed around her.

If nothing else, whether through living or dying, The Exile already was a heroine. But was this the end she deserved? Was this the way it would be? Even though Atton cared for her, and would never really admit it to anyone, was it all just a waste?

"What about the Force bond?" Atton finally asked, against everything he had planned in his mind.

The Disciple seemed to regard him thoughtfully, and he rubbed at his chin and nodded. "I remember it well. The Exile asked me about severing Force bonds, and I told her I didn't think there was a way to do it."

"Then… she _is_ dead?" Atton asked, scared of the answer he may receive.

"I can't tell. She appears that way, however. She knew her fate was tied to the fate of Kreia."

Atton knew that he didn't really like Disciple, he was only enduring him for now because he seemed to be the only one able to save the Exiled Jedi. Atton saw the way Disciple watched the Exile, the way he looked when he spoke to her; and he was damned sure that he felt the same way about the Exile as he did. But – now was not the time to be holding ill will towards anyone.

She was the leader, and she was their unification. Without her, Atton knew at least he felt lost. The ship was on auto-pilot in the cockpit. Where should they go? What should they do now? Everything seemed to be gray and bleak, as if they hit a rock wall and were having a problem climbing over it.

And as if Disciple had read his mind, and Atton was sure he had with all the Force hocus-pocus, he said, "I think we should make way to Dantooine. Once there, if she doesn't wake, maybe the Jedi Masters will know what to do."

Atton laughed, "Sure. They wanted to take her powers away from her again when she met with them last. What the Hell makes you think they're gonna want to help her?"

Disciple shrugged, "Well, I believe it might be a better idea than drifting around in space."

Hating to admit that he was right, Atton went to leave the med bay, but not without looking on the Exile's inert body once more. Her eyes were still closed, her pinkish eyelids had no movement. Her lips were still blue, but it seemed as though slowly they were beginning to redden. Atton slowly walked to the cockpit, crossing the main quarters of the ship on his way there.

The ship seemed slightly cold, and he saw sparks spilling from wires in the ceiling of the ship. He looked up at the wires with this blue eyes and sighed and thought to himself, "That can't be a good sign."

He passed the narrow hallway into the cockpit and saw T3 rolling around behind his chair. The droid began rolling back and forth on his wheels and sputtering a loud series of beeps and twitters. Atton was somewhat relieved he understood some of what the droid was saying.

"What do you mean the hyperdrive's busted?"

The droid let forth another series of beeps.

"From the asteroids? When the big one hit the ship? How bad is the damage?"

The droid spit out a disgusted sound.

"_My _fault? Well, if you thought you could have piloted the ship better, why the Hell didn't you say so!"

The droid beeped angrily at him again, and Atton cut him off, "I have a better idea than that. Talk to Bao-Dur, I'm sure he'll be able to fix it."

The droid began rolling away, still beeping disgusted things about Atton as he rolled away. The droid was almost like a child. A really… smart… child. Atton shook his head and returned to the controls of the ship, prepping it and setting a course to Dantooine.

"Damn droid."

Atton sat in the cushioned metal chair for a little while, thinking. There were too many Jedi on the ship for him to think. He wasn't sure who would be around to read his mind. Visas, Disciple, and Kreia, and the Exile. He started playing a game of pazaak in his head, but once the ship grew really cold, he knew his concentration was already scattered.

Bao-Dur entered the cockpit a few hour later, as Atton was sitting and staring out the window at the slow moving space nebulae around.

"The hyperdrive is shot, but once we get on land, I might be able to properly fix it. We don't have the right parts. Maybe I can find them on Dantoonie."

Atton rubbed his eyes in frustration. "At this rate we're flying, it's going to take us a standard week to fly to Datooine."

Space was moving slow. But then again, the ship was only moving on its primary engines. "Well," Bao-Dur started, "we could reroute the largest bulk of the energy the ship has into the secondary engines, and that'll cut our travel time to a few days."

Atton considered the Zabrak's idea. It didn't sound so bad. The ship had emergency power, and but cranking most of the power into the engines and keeping it off the less important functions, the ship could travel at least three times faster.

Of course, nothing really could beat lightspeed, but it didn't seem like there was much of a choice.

"All right, I don't think rerouting the power is such a bad idea."

"There's only one problem," Bao-Dur said. "It going to get much colder on the ship than it is now."

Nodding, Atton remembered that the ship already started to seem to be cold. "I think there's emergency supplies and clothing in the compartment in the cargo-hold. And there's enough food and supplies in there to last for a month. We'll just have to use the blankets if we get cold."

"I'll start working on that now."

"Do you need a hand?" Atton asked.

"No," Bao-Dur started with a slight smile. "I think you already have too much on your mind. I can handle it."

Trying hard not to loose his flaring temper, ignoring the heat he felt crawling up his neck despite the cold air, he nodded; as the technician went to leave the cockpit, he called after him, "And see if there's something you can do about those sparks in the main hold."

Bao-Dur nodded and went to leave.

_Too much on my mind, huh._ Atton wondered to himself. _Now even the Zabrak is reading my mind. I bet the Exile showed him about that Force crap, too._

Before sitting down to relax and think at the co-pilot's seat, Atton went into the cargo hold in the back, and opened the compartments, rummaging through everything in search of the emergency supplies. He found first aid kits, some spice, a few blasters and grenades. He opened another box and saw some hand warmers, thermal jackets and blankets. Atton grabbed the gear and brought it into the main hold of the ship, and laid it out on the table. He figured that way, if anyone wanted anything, it would be accessible.

Atton took one of the folded, green thermal blankets for himself, and went back into the cockpit, back at the copilot's seat.

He powered down some of the less important systems in the ship, like the overhead lights, all but one of the heaters, and some of the other lesser known functions of the ship. Once that was done, he stared out into space again.

Atton wanted to think and clear his mind, but there was too many people around. He started playing pazaak in his head again, watching the slow vacillating of the stars outside.

Eventually, he dozed off.

A few hours had passed when Atton woke up, and found the green blanket lay neatly on top of his body. His body felt cold; his hands and his toes were cold inside his boots. The tip of his nose was cold, and even his earlobes felt a bit frosty.

Atton didn't remember putting the thermal blanket over himself, but he was still grateful for it. The ship's temperature had to go down at least 10 or 15 degrees, but when he looked outside, he saw that the stars were moving much more quickly. He left the ship on auto-pilot. He checked the maps and saw they were still a few days off from Dantooine.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned, and he looked over to the co-pilot's seat, and almost jumped up.

The Exile was leaning with her feet up on the chair, her arms and legs covered with her Jedi robe, and she was sound asleep. The hood of the robe was pulled over her head and covered her ears. Atton studied her; her lips were a pinkish red, and he could tell she was breathing. She was alive… she had to be. How else would she have gotten in the chair?

He wanted to wake her, to speak to her, to hear her voice, but he was afraid. Atton was afraid he was dreaming, that he would awake again, and the Exile would still be near death in the med-bay, tearing at his heart… and after all that the Exile had been through, he thought it was a little selfish to interrogate her now. She deserved the rest.

Slightly hesitant, he took his cold hand, and slowly brought it to her face. His cold skin touched hers, and he was relieved to feel that her skin was warm. The Exile flinched, and Atton held his breath. He wanted to regret touching her, but he did want to speak to her, and to know for certain he wasn't dreaming.

Slowly, The Exile's brown eyes opened and they landed on Atton.

"It's about time you woke up, sleeping beauty," he whispered, smiling. "You gave us all quite a scare."

"Sorry," she answered simply, and it seemed like it was an effort for her to even keep her head up. Her eyes were aware, yet distant. And the dark rings under her eyes made her look even older than she was. Suddenly Atton was slightly concerned.

"What's wrong?"

"I'll be fine," she whispered back.

Atton raised an eyebrow, "That's not what I asked you."

The Exile sighed, "I don't know how to explain it. We'll talk of it later."

Leaving it at that, Atton prodded, "How did you get here?"

"With my legs, schutta."

Atton grinned, "No kidding."

"I woke up in the med-bay, and at first I didn't know where I was. It was cold, dark, lonely. Once I figured out I was on the _Hawk_ I went to go find everyone. Everyone's sleeping. Mostly in the beds in the back."

"Why didn't you stay back there or in the med-bay?"

The Exile shrugged, her dark eyes piercing Atton's soul, "I don't know."

They stared at each other for a few minutes and didn't say anything. The Exile looked down at the blanket around Atton. "I came up here to the cockpit to see what was going on, where we were headed. And you were sleeping in the chair, shivering. I put the blanket on you, and dozed off."

Atton said nothing.

"Where _are_ we going?" the Exile asked after another short span of slience.

She started out the window at the stars. "Back to Dantooine," Atton started. "The hyperdrive's busted, so we're running emergency power into the engines to get there."

"Ah."

"You don't sound too excited."

"Why should I be?" the Exile asked, "It's not as though I'm the last person the Council wants to see or anything."

"Well, too bad for them I guess."

"Right."

Atton watched her, and he was sure something wasn't right with her. "I don't know, darling, but I think you should get some sleep. You just don't seem yourself."

"All right, I'm kinda tired anyway."

Atton shifted into a more comfortable position in the chair, and he looked to the Exile one more time. "Everything's gonna be fine, trust me."

"Let's hope so." The Exile shifted also, and closed her eyes and seemed to fall asleep instantly.

Atton closed his eyes, listening to her soft breathing; her face the last thing on his mind before letting sleep take over. He said to himself -- _As long as you're in my protection, sweetheart, I'll make sure everything's fine._

Some time had passed, and the ship was still a good day and a half away from the surface of Dantooine. The Exile sat in the quarters on the starboard side of the ship on the padded floor. Her eyes were closed in meditation, almost close to sleep.

She was still aware of what everyone doing. The Exile sensed them all in the Force. She couldn't feel the druids, naturally, but she felt all the other living beings there. The Exile heard Bao-Dur sitting at the hyperdrive in the back of the ship in the engine room, as he thought out processes for the ship.

And too she felt Visas as she quietly watched Atton and the droid argue over the ship. The Exile felt that Visas wanted to laugh, but she was too shy. She felt Atton's frustration, and how he played many games of pazaak in his head to cover up his other thoughts. Lately Atton has been letting down his guard, and the Exile felt the anger, fear, animosity – and something else.. affection? – and frustration that Atton dealt with.

She even felt the Disciple, and how he was about to come to the back part of the ship to speak to her.

The Exile, lately, had been sitting in the back, where Kreia used to stay. The Exile did admit to herself that a part of her had been lost when Kreia fell to the dark side. Kreia, even though she was judgemental and tough as a teacher, Kreia understood The Exile through the Force, a way she knew her companions did not.

Kreia, still was the only mentor the the Exile had since after her official Jedi training ended. Without Kreia, the Exile felt like a part of herself had gone missing.

The disciple arrived in the crew chambers of the ship. Even though nothing seemed physically wrong, Disciple decided he wanted to examine the Exile for a few days to make sure nothing was going on below the surface.

"Hello, my lady."

The Exile said nothing and nodded to him. She routinely held out her arm and the disciple started poking and proding at her fingers with a probe, as if trying to find something.

The entire time, the Exile watched him intently as he worked. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his jaw set firmly. His green eyes stayed focus on their task, and his blonde bangs caught in his eyelashes trembled as he blinked. The Exile touched him with the Force and found here a wholesome and honest concern.

When he was done, he withdrew the probe. "There's really nothing physically wrong with you, except for some minor wounds from the asteroids and the battle. I still sense there is something weighing on your mind."

"I will be fine, disciple."

He looked at her intently, and also sat crossed-legged on the floor across from her. "My lady, is there something wrong?"

The Exile locked eyes with his, and felt that he wanted to look away. She held his gaze for a moment before shaking her head. "Not really. This is the same thing that happened after I became exiled by the Council and I lost my connection to the Force. I was mentally hampered for a few months, but then I guess I got used to it, and everything worked out… and here we are."

"I sense that you are maybe bothered by the things that happened down on Dantooine with the Council?"

She sighed, "Yes, some of the things they said I didn't like."

He shook his head, "I promise you, that no one here believes you are a disease to the Force or to us. You're our leader, and we are all here to accomplish a common goal. And that is what's important in the end."

The Exile nodded, and was suddenly filled with emotion for him. "Yes, you're right. You make a good point."

He nodded and smiled, basking in her praise.

"Disciple… they call you that. Do you have a name? Like a real name?"

"I do, lady, but unlike the Jedi, when I became a scholar of the Force for the Republic and I lived in the inner part of the Enclave, my name was no longer important."

"But… it's important to me. You mean a lot to all of us here. What is your name?"

"I am called Mical."

"Mical: that's a nice name."

He seemed to slightly blush, "Thank you." Then, his eyes seemed to narrow, "You're doing a good job of diverting my attention. But my question – are you all right?"

She paused, looked around, seemed to chew the question in her mouth, as if wondering about the taste. Then the Exile shrugged, "It's complicated, Mical. I know that Kreia had to be defeated, but I didn't intend on feeling like this."

Mical waited, sensing more behind the answer, and giving her enough space to sort it out.

"When I was exiled as a Jedi," she started, "there wasn't many people on my side. I was cast out, sent away; Kreia was on of the first Jedi in a while who truly felt compassion for me. And despite our disagreements, she was my mentor, my teacher. She helped me come back to the Force, and with her being gone, I don't have a teacher anymore."

"But you were already a great Jedi. Maybe there's nothing left to learn, and now it's time to spread the knowledge."

"That may be the case, but I'm not sure," she replied.

"You don't have to be sure," he finished, and then he touched her at her shoulder and said, "You have to feel it here, inside you -- and feel it with the Force. Let the Force guide you."

She nodded, "That's a pretty big Jedi lesson I guess I lost track of. When I was an exile, I learned not to rely on the Force."  
"You don't have to rely on it, but instead be cushioned by it. Don't be a peon of it, just a weilder of it."

One of the Exile's eyebrow rose, "You did study the Jedi for a while."

He agreed, "I did, and as I told you, I remember you from the Academy on Dantooine as children. I guess you don't remember me, however. But I will leave you to be. Remember if you ever want to meditate to calm yourself, don't hesitate to ask me to join you."

"Thank you, Mical. I appreciate you."

"My pleasure, lady." He stood and bowed to her, leaving her quarters and crossing across the ship to his own quarters, Atton watching him with angry eyes as he crossed the deck of the ship.

A/N: I wasn't planning to write anymore, so I'm considering this entry completed.


End file.
